Five time someone thought Bilbo was beautiful and one they told him
by Labicchan
Summary: The title says it all. Pre-Landless. Enjoy!


**I did it! **

**Jesus, posting this has been so difficult!**

**First I couldn't write it like I wanted and then my wi-fi decided (AGAIN) to stop working!**

**If I'm posting this it's all thanks to my neighbour who's lent me her computer and is letting me post this from there, so thanks Sara, even if you have no idea about this, this story is dedicated to you.**

**Okay, now, the fic, well, as usual hope you like it! It's all pre-Landless, so no Thorin (I already miss him) and is centred on Bilbo!**

**For notes go at the end of the chapter!**

**Thank you and enjoy!**

Belladonna

She had been pushing and moaning in pain for what seemed like days.

When her waters broke, she and her fellows Hobbits were in the middle of a long march through the humid planes of Middle-Earth, covered in mud and soaked to the bones in rain.

It was a terrible sensation, feeling her body overstretched and so utterly...weak.

Her mother had thought her that being weak was not the best thing to do in front of others, but at the moment, she really couldn't have cared less.

"Come one, Bella, at the next one, push!"

And push she did and finally, finally, after three long hours, her son had been born, a wailing, tiny, bloody baby.

She waited for the next small contraction and finally expelled the afterbirth form her spent body, waiting tiredly to have her child in her arms.

"She's beautiful, Bella, a very handsome boy!"

She looked down at the baby placed on her chest and what she found was actually rather squishy, red-faced and almost bald baby boy.

She thought she's never seen a more beautiful baby.

Later, when Bungo finally joined her, her husband could only repeat in awe how much the baby looked like her and how beautiful he was.

They named him Bilbo.

Lobelia

Lobelia was not, by any means, an ugly girl.

Even now, being only thirteen-year-old, she was considered a pretty young Hobbit lass with her golden hair and her big green eyes.

So why, why would the other young Hobbits prefer to spend their time with that filthy half-Took and not with her?!

She was so angry, not even the calm landscape of Rivendell could lighten her sour mood.

Around a corner she heard the laughter of the other children and peeked around it to watch them.

They were playing some kind of tag-game, with one of them running around with a bandage on his eyes and the other running around him laughing and giggling.

"Lobelia! You're here! Come and play with us!"

Again him.

He just couldn't learn, could he?

"I don't want to play with you! You...you half-Took!" yelled Lobelia, stomping away furiously.

Because when she had looked at Bilbo's smiling face, at his dark-blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair, she felt a jealousy like she never had before.

He was beautiful, no way to deny it.

He needed to disappear.

Bofur

Bofur first met the lad, when he was working in the sapphire-mines of the Blue Mountains.

He had been going home after a stressful day, when he heard a commotion coming from the next street.

As soon as he reached the place, he found a young-looking Hobbit arguing with a Dwarf guard, who was manhandling the small kid.

"I have not stolen this money, for your information, I earned it!"

"You just can't keep your mouth closed, can you? Maybe a night in jail will change your mind!"

Bofur had enough at that point.

"Wait! I know him, he's not a thief he's a...a" he stole a quick glance at the Hobbit "a dancer! Don't you see his dress? He dances for a living!"

The Guard snorted but let the boy go.

"I hope you're not lying otherwise I'll find you and you'll regret this."

They watched the grim Dwarf leaving in silence, the boy gathering the money fallen to the ground.

"Thank you, you know for...helping me."

"No problem, kid, I'm Bofur by the way, glad to help."

"Bilbo...so did you know me?"

"'m afraid not, I just, you know, looked at you and took a guess!"

"Well, anyway, thank you" said Bilbo with a smile, before turning around and leaving the Dwarf alone.

Going back to his usual route, he found himself thinking about how utterly beautiful had that smile been on the young Hobbit's face.

Dain

Dain observed the Hobbit boy dancing on the small stage set up in the middle of the Marketplace.

The way his hips swayed ì, how his hair flowed like silk around him and the almost sinful movement of the veils draped on his body made his mouth water.

The Dancer looked like the most precious of the gems in his enormous treasure, like the shiniest diamond, the brighter ruby...

The most beautiful emerald.

Dain was not a Dwarf who was used to being denied what he wanted.

If he asked for the richest wine, he got it.

If he demanded strawberries in the middle of winter, they were ready for him within minutes.

If he wanted the most beautiful Dwarrowdam to warm his bed, he had her in her room begging for more in a matter of seconds.

Now he wanted the Hobbit.

And, as was usual, he' d have him without a single complain.

After all, what meant being one of the richest being on Middle-Earth if not having all he deserved?

Bungo

Breath in.

Breath out.

Breath in.

An excruciating cough.

Bungo Baggins opened his eyes.

All around him was opaque, vague, indistinct.

Breath in.

Breath out.

The freezing cold was settling in his lungs, his bones, his muscles.

He didn't feel his toes any more.

Breath in.

Breath out.

He heard the soft sounds of someone crying, but it sounded far away, muffled, distant.

He tried to focus more and was able to see someone next to him.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Belladonna.

Bilbo.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Their faces are misty, red, snotty: they were the ones crying.

But why were they crying?

Breath in.

A whacking cough.

Oh, they were crying for him.

He was dying.

Breath out.

His wonderful wife, his beautiful son.

He was leaving them. He didn't want to leave them, they needed him.

Breath in.

Breath out.

"Bella, Bilbo, I love you."

He didn't feel anything but the burning in his lungs.

Breath in.

.

.

.

Frodo, Merry, Sam

"Uncle Bilbo, you are beautiful!"

"Yeah! Just like a princess!"

"A pretty princess!"

After hours and hours of being forced into an almost endless number of dresses, leggings, veils and all those thing, the last thing he wanted was being called a beautiful pretty princess.

Despite his thoughts on his nephews' choice of word, he smiled brightly and thanked them all profusely.

Frodo looked absolutely enamoured with his new brass anklets, delighted by how its bells ringed whenever he moved them, while Merry was now tugging at one of the tulle veils sewed on the back of his dress, amazed by how fluffy and light it was.

Sam, anyway, was another matter altogether.

He was staring in complete and utter adoration at his uncle's whole figure, his eyes full of admiration and shining bright in excitement.

Shaking his head a little because of the Hobbitlings' reactions, Bilbo crouched down on their level and patted them all on the head.

"Thank you darlings, you look beautiful as well today, did Granma cut your hair a bit?"

Frodo shook his head with vigour "Not just a bit a really big bit!"

"Yeah!" piped up Merry "a giga...gign..biggest bit!"

"It was not that much of a bit, Merry!"

"For me it was, Sam!"

Bilbo found himself unable to contain his laughter watching the scene before him.

Eru, he loved them so much.

He told them so and found himself with a armful of giggling faunts.

The rest of the day was spent saving a less-than-amused princess from a terrible dragon with his hair cut a biggest bit by the valiant Rohirrim Frodo Baggins and his loyal shieldMan Samwise Gamgee.

That night no nightmares plagued their tent.

**Notes:**

**Belladonna is a character I really, really, really like.**

**She's like, one of the strongest female characters I've ever read about, because even though being adventurous was considered something to be ashamed of, she kept following her dreams and went on adventures anyway and decided to stop only when she met the Hobbit of her life, who came in the form of Bungo, who had absolutely nothing adventurous at all. Also the (almost certain) fact that her husband and her had problems at having kids it's one of the saddest things ever, because it's clear how much Hobbits value having children and their inability at doing so must have weighted on them a lot.**

**Lobelia. God, I really don't like her. She's always so vicious and unpleasant! Here, I portrayed her as a young girl, a young girl who wants to be noticed, remembered and liked by everyone and so, when she notices how Bilbo is noticed and loved more by other kids because of his kindness and nature, she's very very jealous. And jealous young girls are probably the last persons you'd like to have around.**

**Bofur meets Bilbo almost the same way Thorin meets Frodo. It's nothing strange, really, street artist, especially if of another nationality (or race altogether here) are very often accused of being thief even it there's not a single proof about it.**

**Oh, and Bofur really did not know Bilbo before this meeting: he just noticed the dress, the jewels (clearly false: he's a miner, he knows how real gold is meant to be) and took a guess. He and Bilbo will remain friend for years, and when the Landless arrived at the Lonely Mountain, the Dwarf had been living there for almost three years with his invalid cousin and his bother, who had been nominated Head Cook.**

**Dain is Crazy, with capital C because he deserves it. He's been brought up by his parents believing that, being the heir of the Iron Hills, he could have all he wanted and when he wanted. He made this his general way of life, so when Bilbo actually denied himself to him, he went mad(er) and started to make the Hobbit's life a hell, making his Guards follow him everywhere and trying in every way to force the Dancer into submission. In the end Bilbo and the other Hobbits left the Iron Ills secretly after Lord Dain forbade the merchants to sell their products to the Landless, pushing them, yet again, on the verge of starvation.**

**Bungo dies during a long march in the middle of winter after long sleepless nights spent in the snow. His last words are of love for his wife, whom he had always loved with all his heart, and for his son Bilbo, the most precious gift Bella had given him. He love them both dearly and he had a close relationship with Bilbo, despite not seeing often eye-to-eye with him about lots of things. The day he died was also the day he realised how he still loved his wife just as much as he'd loved her the day they married.**

**This is pure fluff to lighten your mood after Bungos' death. Sam, Frodo and Merry are just too precious for this world! They find their uncle beautiful and don't care if pretty is not used for male: he is pretty. I based their reaction on my sister and cousin reactions on seeing my mum all elegant and shiny with jewels when we were younger. They absolutely adored her and were not shy to tell her so.**

**God, too many notes, sorry! Thank you for reading, leave a comment a fave, kudos, or anything, really!**

**Erika**


End file.
